


Carson - High Fever

by writehard_whumpharder



Category: Original Work
Genre: Carson series, Fainting, Fever, Hangover, Hurt/Comfort, Magic Overuse, Magical Exhaustion, Whump, collapse, delirious, dizzy - Freeform, headache
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:34:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21589213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writehard_whumpharder/pseuds/writehard_whumpharder
Summary: Carson gets ambushed at night and uses too much raw magic. Whenever he uses too much magic that doesn't come from himself his body treats it like an infection. He manages to stumble over to Riley's office, getting absolutely soaked in the heavy rain but nearly collapses when he gets there. She has no choice but to take care of him when she finds out he has a high fever.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Rain was coming down hard now, falling in heavy sheets that soaked Carson to his very core. He kept his eyes down as he walked, faintly amused at how easily the water mixed with his blood and disappeared onto the New York sidewalk. The city’s usually bustling streets were all but empty, except for the few people that he’d seen take off in another direction at the sight of him. Surely he didn’t look that bad. The blood clinging to his brow and soaking through his right pant leg came from what he would describe as “just a scratch”. No, that was the least of his worries tonight.

Despite the chilly wind that came along with this unfortunate weather, Carson could still feel the fever radiating from his skin. Absently, he pawed at his forehead and neck as if to see if it had miraculously improved… or possibly gotten worse. But it was too hard to tell. This has happened to him once or twice before. Sometimes when a magic user takes in to much power, or slings around an absurd amount of energy, it can raise the body temperature along with other disorienting symptoms. The glow of the street lamps reflected in every wet surface was starting to give him a headache and he closed his eyes tightly for a few seconds.

Carson’s apartment was on the other side of the city, the night so nice part to be exact, and even if he could walk all the way there without collapsing, he simply didn’t want to. Calling a cab crossed his mind but he didn’t have enough money left on him to catch a ride around the block. And so he made his reluctant trek towards Riley’s office, hoping to God that she would be there.

They hardly knew each other, but since she was more or less the reason he was in this state, Carson decided that it would be okay to go bother her. A few days ago she’d asked him to fill in some blanks for her police report, and they didn’t turn out to be yes or no questions. So he went out looking for a fight, and that’s exactly what he got.

Carson grumbled to himself in frustration, pinching his nose to relive his growing headache, if only for a few seconds. When he rounded the corner the wind picked up and suddenly he was freezing. Realistically he knew that he still had a raging fever but his body seemed to do a 180, sending deep chills up his spine. He felt himself borrow deeper into his coat, drawing it tight across his body. Riley’s office shouldn’t be too far away now.

His feet grew heavy, making it difficult to move them back and forth. Any bystander would take him for a drunk, stumbling dizzily down the street at 3am. Really though he was having a hard time seeing just exactly where he was going. Carson just needed a good night’s sleep and he’d be back on his feet, but the wet sidewalk wasn’t a very good place to do that, as tempting as it may be. His head pounded worse and worse with every step and the chills were becoming unbearable. Somewhere in his head his brain was telling him, “get out of the damn rain before you kill yourself”, it’s a fight or flight type of thing. Picking up his pace, Carson tried to blink the blurriness from his eyes, scanning the street for the familiar window of Riley’s office. She had her business logo and name etched onto it. As he moved his head around, squinting his eyes to look, he got the sudden feeling that he was going to be sick. A high fever can make you feel all sorts of things. He leaned against a wall, doubled over, just focused on taking deep breaths. The feeling didn’t quite go away but once he was certain he wasn’t going to humiliate himself by throwing up in the alley next to… CVS, he kept going. It must be close now.

Sure enough, Riley’s blinds were closed but a warm yellow glow was coming from behind them. Carson looked both ways before hustling across the street, almost giddy with relief. The image of her soft leather sofa appeared in his mind. From what little he knew about her, Riley was a hard worker, more than dedicated enough to be awake at this time working on a stack of paperwork. He tripped a little on the steps up to the door, recovered, then knocked on it obnoxiously hard.

The door ripped open to reveal a casually dressed young woman of average height, average build, average brown hair, but stunning green eyes. Carson’s brain must be fried at this point because he almost told her just that. She looked annoyed, just a few degrees shy of mad. He could tell she had prepared something to say but it died on her lips when she got a good look at him.

“What the hell happened to you?” She asked.

“Well I didn’t quite get my ass kicked but apparently I really overdid it with the magic and you know how that goes.”

“How would I have any idea how that goes?” She asked, frowning slightly. Right, she wasn’t a magic user, probably didn’t know much about it at all. But Carson didn’t care to explain it at that moment.

“Can I come in?” He asked with a sigh. Riley opened the door wider then went back to sit at her desk. So he let himself in. Or tried to anyway.

He leaned heavily on the door as he stepped inside but a wave of dizziness rushed over him. So he stood there stupidly with the door open, letting the rain in. He planned to wait until he got his balance but before he knew it Riley was at his side. She held him up with one hand and closed the door with the other. When her hand brushed against his she felt the alarming heat rolling off him.

“Oh my god… ” she said, lifting a hand to touch his forehead to get a more accurate reading. He flinched away so she couldn’t reach it. “Do you want me to help you or not?”

Carson stopped moving and reluctantly let her touch his face, staring into the room to convey that he wasn’t thrilled about it. Though it looked more like he was pouting.

“Magic or not a fever this high could kill you.” Riley said with concern. As if on cue Carson’s eyes went glassy and he fell clumsily to his knees. He was vaguely aware of Riley’s voice saying his name, through a tunnel, underwater, and possibly in another country. The oscillating fan made a lot more sense as it hummed sweetly and felt the strong urge to put himself in front of it.

“Okay okay, hold on.” She said mostly to herself, struggling to get him out of his wet coat and pry off his boots. Once that was done she helped him walk over to the couch. Carson sank into the cushions, closing his eyes in an effort to get the room to stop spinning. The fan swept his way, blowing cool air on his face which had gone back to being excruciatingly hot.

Riley disappeared for a minute, coming back just before Carson was about to engage in casual conversation with his new friend the fan. She sat down on the coffee table opposite him armed with a thermometer, a cool wet towel, and a glass of water.

“Open you eyes.” She commanded. Carson did, lifting his head an inch above the back of the couch. Grabbing the glass of water first she held it up to his mouth for him to take a few sips. Carson tried to hold the glass for himself but she wouldn’t let go, not trusting him to be able to do it. Which was probably for the best. Next she grabbed the thermometer and tried to put it in his mouth. Carson did that really annoying thing again where he turned his head and wiggled out of reach.

“Hold still, God damn it.” Riley swore loudly. Carson’s eyes went wide and he blinked a few times, making Riley feel a little bad for yelling at him. She lifted the thermometer again, more slowly this time, and he put it under his tongue before leaning back and closing his eyes again. As Riley waited for the beep, she studied his pale and sweaty face for a moment. Maybe it was just some side effect of magic overuse and there was nothing to worry about. She barely even knew Carson, let alone cared about him. As if to contradict herself, Riley felt her heart flutter with worry as she read the numbers – 106⁰.

“Oh shit.” She breathed, unsure what to do next. If her office had a shower she would have dragged him into it by now, but it didn’t. What she did have, however, was a small kitchenette in the corner, including a fridge and freezer. Carson leaned over like he wanted to lay down so she helped him shift onto his back before running to the freezer, taking everything inside. There was a generous amount of frozen pasta, a few popsicles, and two actual ice packs.

“How you doing, Carson?” She asked.

“Eh…” he mumbled, “I’ve been better, I’ve been worse…”

“How about an actual answer,” she prodded again.

“Oh, I feel terrible.” He admitted. If Riley was going to ditch her important paperwork for this, at least he wasn’t swearing up and down that he was completely fine like most guys she worked with. Carson’s energy was waning and he felt the best thing he could do for himself was just go to sleep. Riley went to work with the frozen pasta, putting bags by his armpits, under his neck, and everywhere else she could put them to cool him down quickly.

She watched him sleep from where she was sitting on the coffee table. The wet cloth was still sitting next to the thermometer so she put it on his forehead, dabbing at it gently in a way that she hoped was comforting. Not that Carson would notice. Periodically she checked his temp through the night, relieved as it steadily fell back to normal. It wasn’t the first time she’d slept at her office. Riley pulled her fold away cot out from the closet and settled into it so she had her own space but would be close by if he needed anything. Dozing off she made a mental note to tell him tomorrow morning to never scare her like that again.


	2. The Next Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carson's fever has gone down but he still feels absolutely terrible, suffering through a magic induced hangover of sorts. He goes with Riley and Morris to the police station to fill out a report but ends up fainting (in front of everyone hehe) and Morris has to drive him home.

Carson awoke early in the morning to hushed voices. It took him a second to remember where he was and after that it took a few more seconds to open his eyes. Letting Riley and whoever she was talking to think he was still asleep would gave him the opportunity to eaves drop on their conversation. Once he confirmed that it wasn’t about him he blinked his eyes open and took his sweet time sitting up on the leather sofa.

Riley met his gaze when he looked toward the table where she had her work spread out in front of her among a few discarded coffee mugs and whiskey glasses. Across from her sat a man that looked vaguely familiar. He had a warm smile and Carson decided he didn’t immediately hate the guy.

“We were trying not to wake you. You remember my partner Morris?” Riley asked, bringing him into the conversation. Carson remembered seeing the guy in passing while he was at the police station a few days ago, he’d given him a friendly wave on his way out.

“Yeah, hi.” He replied, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The two were clearly busy so he stood up and headed to the door where his coat hung neatly on a hook and boots were lined up on the floor. He sunk one foot in, disappointed to find that his shoes were still damp from last night, or technically this morning. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair. Talk to you later.”

Riley smiled smugly and rose from her chair, “nice try, but you’re coming to the station with us and you can tell me all about your findings in the car.”

Carson groaned audibly. He wanted to go back to his place and promptly fall back asleep but he’d learned it’s not a very good idea to argue with the police. “Fine, let me wash up first.” He said, sliding his boots back off out of courtesy and headed to the office’s small bathroom. He heard papers shuffling behind him as Riley and Morris got their things together.

A flicker of pain went through his head, starting behind his left eye. Looking in the mirror he actually looked okay, though maybe a little paler than usual. The fever was gone but he was far from recovered. Carson did what people call “soul magic”, meaning he used life energy to do magic, mostly his own, and naturally it took time to recover from that. But there were bits of energy all around him which he could tap into. People left subtle traces of energy wherever they went, which was especially useful in a densely populated city like New York where that energy amounted to something useable. It wasn’t particularly strong magic but it was fairly rare and a highly valued skill. Of all the different kinds, soul magic was the only kind that could be used to heal people since it involves with the manipulation and exchange of life energy. It was an intimate and delicate thing to practice.

So what Carson dealt with now was sort of like a psychic hangover. He’d been taken by surprise last night and was forced to use more of his own energy than he was comfortable with. Rest and positivity were the best ways to rebuild that reservoir, two things that he was coincidentally very bad at. He stood in front of the mirror, closing his eyes for as long as he reasonably could. Then quickly splashed some water on his face, dried off, and went to join them in the car.

Morris was a little older, maybe early 40’s, and had spent more time in this city, so he was the only one of the three of them that actually owned a car. It was parked out front in a reserved spot. Riley and Morris were already outside by the time he caught up with them and Riley ducked into the passenger seat when she saw him coming out. “Fan-fucking-tastic,” he thought bitterly, “I get to sit in the back.” He didn’t complain though, not wanting to admit that he, a fully grown man, still got carsick sitting in the backseat. It was only a short drive across town though as long as there wasn’t any traffic, he could make it. However, the subtle headache and overall “bleh” feeling of his hangover made him doubt himself.

“So, what did you find out about this guy, Jimmy Foster, did you confirm that he is using some kind of magic?” Riley asked him once the car started moving. He was using magic all right, and a lot of it.

Carson swallowed before responding, “Definitely. I’m not sure what kind but I guess he takes his privacy very seriously and didn’t appreciate me poking around.” He leaned his head against the cold window and sighed before realizing opening it would probably feel better. The cool, gentle breeze did help ease the stuffy feeling inside the car.

“So what happened exactly when he noticed you?” Morris asked innocently. Riley must not have told her partner much about why he was sleeping on her couch when he showed up. Morris seemed polite enough not to ask.

“Well he came at me pretty hard. Probably wanted to send a message. His guys easily could have thrown some punches to get the point across but he went out of his way to use magic. I don’t know why he’d want to reveal himself like that. I had just enough energy to block his attacks and run away.”

Morris snorted. Carson was sane enough to know when to run and he wasn’t the slightest bit ashamed about it. He glared at him when their eyes met through the rear view mirror. Morris quickly cleared his throat and restored the smile to his face. Maybe it was just the car sickness but Carson felt a little nauseous at how god damn nice these people are. He’d probably feel a hell of a lot better if he breathed in the sunshine and nurtured his soul or whatever but that wasn’t really in his nature. Riley turned around briefly to talk to him. She had a file full of photographs in her hand which she tossed down onto the seat next to him.

“Take a look at these and see if you can identify the guys Foster was with.” Carson was reluctant to drag his eyes off the horizon line to survey the pictures but he did it anyway. “Hey, are you okay?” She asked cautiously when he was on the fourth photo. He very much wanted to throw up on Morris’s fine leather seats but Carson liked to think he has a little more class than that so he just mumbled a yes. She didn’t press the issue further. They were only a couple blocks away from the station anyways, he’d survive.

There were ten similar looking guys in the pictures and he managed to pick out two that he was fairly certain matched the men he saw last night. “I’m pretty sure it was these two.” Carson said quietly, handing back the file. He went back to feeling the cool breeze on his face and no one bothered him for the rest of the ride.

Morris pulled into a parking space in the small lot reserved for employees. And the three climbed out of the car, Carson noticabley shakier than the others.

“So do you have more questions for me or can I go home now.” He asked dryly. Riley only said he had to go with them to the station, not stay. And his apartment wasn’t very far from here.

“Almost done. Just come in for a minute, there’s free coffee and bagels in it for you.” She said, trying to coax him inside. Any other day he’d find free bagels incredibly tempting. They are, after all, his favorite food. Today though his stomach churned at the thought of it and he practically had to drag himself inside. He wasn’t uncomfortable in police stations or anything but the noise of people walking around and taking phone calls wasn’t helping him in the slightest. Everything sounded three times louder than usual and he could feel the shrill sound of ringing phones grate against his eardrums. Riley wasn’t lucky enough to have her own office at the police station. It was actually surprising that she could afford a small one on the other side of town. He wasn’t quite sure what she did in addition to your typical police work, but it was definitely something boring. She let him sit down her office chair, the kind that spins and raises and lowers. Carson’s inner child debated fiddling with it while Riley did whatever it was she needed to do but he thought it best not to make himself any dizzier than he already was. Leaning over him to riffle through a stack of papers she frowned, clearly not finding what she was looking for.

“I’ll need your official statement but it looks like I’m all out of forms. The copier is in the lounge with the coffee, let’s go.”

Her voice had that gentle commanding tone that made you want to listen to her. After all he could just bag up a couple bagels to take home and see if he could stomach a little coffee, assuming there was milk and sugar to go with it. Getting up to follow her, Carson felt a little strange for a second. He’d expected to feel pretty bad but he thought he’d be back at home by now, suffering in privacy, so he got a little worried. Once he was fully on his feet he knew he was in trouble but took a deep breath before falling in step behind her. She walked fast, too fast. There was no shortage of cubicle walls to steady himself on as he walked. Since Riley was in front of him she didn’t see the way he started to stumble, grabbing onto every available surface for dear life.

“Okay the lounge is right down this hall.” She said without looking behind her.

Oh god…

“The faster you fill out this form the faster you can leave.” She added, noticing he was lagging behind.

No, please not here…

“Are you coming or what?”

Anywhere but here…

Finally she stopped to look behind her in time to see Carson go deathly pale, wavering a little with his hand against the wall. They didn’t know each other all that well but she sensed that he was growing distant, expression somewhat vacant. He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly in an effort to regain control of himself. But he was just delaying the inevitable. Riley stepped closer to him, preparing to catch him if he fainted, which Carson knew he was definitely going to do. Feeling himself starting to slip, he realized what a burden he’d been to Riley over the last few hours.

“Sorry,” he mumbled at his eyes rolled back. There was a scraping sound as he slid down the wall, one of the buttons of his coat making contact with the cheap drywall. Riley managed to seize one of his shoulders, slowing down his descent. Luckily there was nothing for him to hit his head on as he landed on his side on the carpet. The loud thud drew the eyes of half of the people in the police station. Some woman by the front desk asked, “did he just pass out?” to no one in particular.

Riley felt her cheeks heat up, embarrassment by proxy. She did her best to ignore the nosy looks from her coworkers as she knelt down next to him. This time when she put a hand out to feel his forehead he couldn’t flinch away from her. Confirming that his fever hadn’t suddenly come back she noted the slight clamminess of his skin. Not knowing much about magic overuse, there wasn’t much she could do for him but wait for him to wake up. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Morris trotting over to them from his own desk.

“I thought he looked rough in the car but I didn’t know it was this bad… what’s wrong with him?” He asked with genuine worry.

“I don’t know. He said something about overusing his magic last night then fell asleep on my couch with a 106⁰ fever before I could ask him any questions.”

“Jesus Riley, why didn’t you take him to the hospital?” He asked as some sort of innate fatherly instinct kick in. Having a little more stature in this precinct he didn’t hesitate to grab the nearest coat off the back of someone’s chair and roll it up to make a pillow for him. The woman from the front desk approached them slowly.

“You don’t need to call an ambulance,” said Riley, already knowing what she was going to ask. The woman looked skeptical but returned to her desk. Slowly the station came back to life and Carson’s limp body in the hallway was mostly forgotten.

“I think he’s just exhausted, let’s give him a minute to wake up.” Riley said, sitting down in a more comfortable position. Carson’s arms were bent in front of him and she grabbed one of his hands to hold gently. Morris, respectfully, didn’t comment on the gesture. Carson laid there, peacefully still, for another ten minutes, then started to stir. He unknowingly squeezed her hand and shifted one of his legs.

Of all the thoughts that could have run through his head as he woke up, like ‘where am I?’, 'who is holding my hand?’, or 'how long have I been out?’, his first thought was:

“This carpet is hideous.” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but to be fair, mustard yellow and forest green were never meant to be together. Especially in this swirling pattern, although that might have just been his eyes trying to focus. He moved his head slightly to look up at Riley, not quite sure what to say. More than anything he wanted to go home. Not in any position to care if he sounded like a child, that’s exactly what he said.

“I want to go home.” He mumbled, trying to sound matter of fact and not pathetic. Morris who was still crouched near them was happy to oblige.

“Get up, I’ll drive you home.” He said, then turned to Riley, “would you finish looking over our files. We can wait to get his statement later.”

“Sure.” She said, moving out of the way. Carson managed to prop himself up on his elbows and look around the station. Despite his catnap on the floor he was still pretty tired so he didn’t protest when Morris grabbed him under the arms and hauled him to his feet. Morris and Riley exchanged looks when he let go of him, both half expecting him to fall down again. Instead Carson stood up straight, dusted off his clothes and headed towards the door with renewed determination. Morris quickly grabbed his keys and caught up with him.

“Someone’s in a hurry to leave.” He said as they made their way to his car.

“You have no idea.” Carson said, sounding like he’d had a long day despite the fact that it was still only 10am. They got into Morris’s black Honda Civic and buckled in. Carson immediately closed his eyes once he was sitting down again, only to realize a minute later that they weren’t going anywhere. Carson opened them again to see Morris looking at him expectantly.

“Aren’t you going to tell me where you live?” He asked.

“Oh right, just turn right onto the main road and I’ll let you know where to turn after that.” Caron said tiredly. Describing him as 'awake’ would be a little generous, but he managed to give Morris directions until they pulled up to his apartment complex. It was nothing fancy, and in kind of a rough neighborhood, even then it was kind of hard to believe that he could afford a place like this in New York. Carson knew what he was thinking and smiled for the first time that day.

“I didn’t know the guy but my dad left it to me in his will, it’s rent controlled.” He explained. Morris hummed in response. “Thanks for the ride.” Carson riffled through his pockets for his keys on his way to the main door.

“No problem, take care of yourself.” He called after him, pulling away from the curb before Carson would be forced to make a promise he couldn’t keep. The stairs up to his apartment were absolute torture with the full body ache he had going. And that was really saying something, seeing as he lived on the first floor and only had to walk up five steps to get into the building. It took a few tries to get his door open, turning the key the wrong way no matter which way he seemed to turn it. Finally it clicked open and he stripped of his coat, boots, and the light jacket he had on underneath. Ah Fall, the season for layering.

Carson’s apartment was small but in good shape. He had a small kitchen to the right of the door with an island that served as a dining table. To the left was a bathroom the easily took up a quarter of the apartment’s total space. Then further in was a living room with two soft couches opposite each other, with a cluttered .coffee table in the middle. Instead of a TV he had two large floor to ceiling bookshelves that hid his bed from view. There were about three feet on either side to get by then the rest of the space was dedicated to a full size bed, a large dresser, and a nightstand. Despite the small size his studio was easy to get around. Carson suspected his dad had some kind of mobility issue given the large handicapable bathtub (which Carson loved the shit out of), especially on days like today. He padded over to his old answering machine on the island in the kitchen and let it play through his messages. He could just as easily check it on his smart phone but for some reason he liked it this way. It was sort of a ritual, something he did every time he came home. It crackled to life.

“One message: *beep* hi Carson, it’s Riley. Get some sleep then call me back. We need to talk.” He turned it off thinking it sounded important but she had said to get some sleep and who was he to argue with her. Stripping off his socks and jeans, Carson fell into bed with a heavy sigh, not even bothering to get under the covers. He surrendered to a deep sleep almost instantly, thinking in the back of his head that it might be a while before he got the chance again.


End file.
